A Question of Trust
by Every Shade of Blue
Summary: Oneshot. Quite simply, Bill wonders why it was that Will found it so easy to trust him, even though he barely knew him.


****A/N: Italics denote a flashback.

* * *

**A Question of Trust**

Sometimes it was hard for him to remember how long he had been on the Dutchman. How many shipwrecks he had seen, how many souls he had ferried, how many sleepless nights he had spent staring into the darkness, wondering where Elizabeth was, what she was doing, whether she was all right.

There were very few men now who stayed on the Dutchman for more than a few months. It seemed that without the evil that Jones had brought to the ship, the men found the courage to move on more quickly than they had before. Will himself often felt lost in a sea of ever-changing faces. They came and went so quickly, and he watched them all leave, wishing with all his heart that he could do the same. Even if he couldn't return to Elizabeth yet, he needed to go somewhere, anywhere, just for a little while. It was nearly enough to drive anyone mad. But there was one face that never changed, one person who always stayed instead of moving on.

Every captain needs a first mate.

And sometimes, every boy needs his father.

The one face that Will could count on, that would never leave, that he could always seek out when he felt lost, was none other than Bill Turner.

* * *

Bill knew his son had trusted him from the start. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. He had abandoned the kid and his mother; he had nearly gotten him killed by sending him a piece of Aztec gold. And yet, here he was, this kid who had grown up knowing next to nothing about his father, suddenly relying on him for all he was worth. Will wasn't naive. He didn't place his trust in others without due cause. So what was the cause?

Will stood motionless at the helm, his dark eyes reflecting a brilliant orange and pink sunrise. He was so still, Bill couldn't even be sure that he was breathing. Despite the vibrant display of color on the horizon before him, his mind was clearly far away; whatever he was thinking about, though, it didn't show on his face. Bill had a feeling, however. And if he was correct, then he didn't mind interrupting in the slightest. The kid was probably bordering on depression as it was, even though he was very good at hiding it. He didn't need to spend this much time thinking about things that could only serve to make it worse.

_ I wonder where she is... surely she's settled by now. I hope she's not alone -_

"Hey, kid."

Will glanced at his father, his face registering mild surprise. He hadn't heard him coming.

"Hey."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

Bill shook his head. "Liar."

"Why are you asking me a question that you already know the answer to?" Will countered, smiling wryly.

"Because you worry me sometimes, kid."

Will shrugged. "I can't exactly stop myself from thinking, can I?" He took another look at his father. "There's something else you wanted to say, isn't there?"

Bill had to give him credit; he was good at reading people. "There is, actually." He turned to face Will and said bluntly, "Why did you trust me?"

"What?"

"That first night we saw each other here. Why did you trust me? I left. You grew up without a father. I wouldn't have been surprised if you had told me that you hated me. So what was it that gave you a reason to trust me?"

Will turned toward the horizon again, staring at the sea. This time, however, Bill had no idea what he was thinking about.

* * *

_After a week at sea, Will would have given almost anything he had to be done with Jack Sparrow._

Seriously! Anything at all!_ he pleaded silently, staring at the sky and addressing any deity who might happen to feel like listening._ Please?

_"'ey, boy!"_

Dammit.

_"Wot the 'ell you doin' over there? Quit daydreamin' 'bout tha' girl an' move!"_

_Will turned to see Jack standing at the helm, now completely ignoring him. Aside from barking orders in his general direction, Jack had barely said a word to him since he had revealed that his father had been a pirate._

_Will stood uncertainly to one side, watching Jack. Jack didn't so much as glance in his direction._

_"Jack."_

_"Isn' there somethin' you should be doin'?"_

_"No." Actually, it was quite possible that there was. Will honestly had no idea. And Jack was ignoring him again. "Jack..."_

_Jack let out a long-suffering sigh, which Will found to be unnecessarily melodramatic. "Wot d'you want, boy?"_

_Will shrugged sheepishly, staring at a point somewhere just over Jack's shoulder. "Tell me something about my father." It sounded childish, and he knew it. But what other way was there to say it? And besides, he also knew that Jack understood the unspoken implication in the request. 'Tell me something good about my father.' He knew nothing about the man, could barely even remember what he had looked like. His whole life, all he had known was what his mother had told him: "Your father is a sailor on a merchant ship." And now even that turned out to be a lie. It irritated him, even though he knew she had done it to protect him. Doubtless she had wished to shield him from the knowledge that his father was nothing but a pirate, as well as discourage him from following in his footsteps. But all the same, he was bothered by the fact that the only thing she had ever told him about his father wasn't true._

_Now the only true thing he knew about his father was that he was a pirate. It made him desperate for something more, any redeeming quality. Anything at all._

_Jack let out a kind of grunt. "Lookin' fer redemption, huh?"_

_Will just shrugged again, didn't answer._

_"All righ', fair enough." He finally turned to look at Will. "You wan' th' truth? Truth is... it weren' 'is fault 'e turned pirate." He turned away again. "It weren' 'is fault 'e never came back to you an' yer mum."_

_Will knew Jack could tell that he hadn't been expecting that at all._

_"Truth is, it were my fault. We were merchant sailors, once, so don' think too badly o' yer mum fer tellin' you tha'. Bu' then I got wind o' tha' treasure... th' Isla de Muerta... an' I convinced 'im t' come wi' me. I told 'im it'd be jus' fine. He could be home by Christmas, if 'e wanted. I was wrong." He glanced sideways at Will, who was still standing there, frozen in place. "Tha' good enough?"_

_Will mentally shook himself, finally managed to nod briefly. "Yes." He started to walk away, but then stopped just long enough to whisper two barely audible words: "Thank you."_

* * *

"Will?"

Suddenly shaken back to the present, Will glanced at his father. "It was just... something someone told me once." He shrugged. "It's not important. Not now, anyway."

Bill watched him carefully for a moment, examining his face. Then, finally deciding that Will was telling the truth, he moved away slowly.

Will went back to staring at the ocean.

* * *

_"That first time on the Dutchman, the night I met my father.."_

_It would likely be the last time he would talk to Jack Sparrow for the next ten years, and there was one more thing he needed to ask._

_"...I thought he would say something... tell me that it wasn't his fault, that he had always meant to come back. But he never said a word. Why?"_

_Jack shrugged. "Dunno, mate. Could be 'e feels guilty. Whether it were 'is fault or no, 'e wants a chance t' make it up t' you."_

_"Should tell him I know?"_

_"That's up t' you, boy. But if you really wan' my advice... I'd leave 'im alone."_

* * *

Will shook his head. People didn't make much sense to him, sometimes. Why was it, he wondered, that at times, the most redeeming truths about ourselves are the ones that we don't want anyone to know?


End file.
